


And the World Just Opened Up...

by Koren M (CyberMathWitch)



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberMathWitch/pseuds/Koren%20M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Midwinter night at an inn leads to a opening of feelings and possibilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the World Just Opened Up...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterseaspray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterseaspray/gifts).



> This takes place about mid season two. No major spoilers past that point (and not terribly many for anything other than season one.)

The inn was one of the nicer ones they'd visited since they’d begun their quest for the Stone of Tears, but the promise of a hot meal, clean bed, and warm bath didn't seem to ease the scowl that looked to be permanently etched across Cara's face these days. If anything, Kahlan noted, it had deepened when they'd entered the warmly lit common room to find seats at the table.

She'd thought briefly of mentioning it to Richard, but decided against it when she saw how gleefully distracted he was becoming at the sight of the decorations strung around the rafters and tables.

The people in the room (mostly local, Kahlan suspected) were clustered on the side that held a massive fireplace and boasted two huge iron kettles containing what smelled like mulled wine and hot cider. The rafters were draped with strings of dried berries, and piles of evergreens were arranged on each of the tables and along several of the beams. Everyone around them seemed to be very much in the Midwinter mood, but Cara just stood stiffly, as if she was being escorted into a prison instead of a hall. In fact, Kahlan thought to herself, she probably would've been happier walking into a prison.

She bided her time, waiting through their dinner and until Richard and Zedd had wandered over into the thick of the festivities before approaching her and taking the seat beside the other woman. She didn't bother to ask for permission.

"It's really not so bad, you know. It's warm, we've got food and beds, and it won't hurt anything for you to take a little bit of time out to celebrate the holiday."

As introductory statements went, it wasn't perhaps her most politic, but it was the best she could manage. Cara's spirits, which were tenuous at the best of times had been sinking lower and lower as the days had grown shorter - and while Zedd could simply tune her out and Richard was his usual optimistically oblivious self, Kahlan couldn't stop herself from being aware of the other woman's displeasure.

Cara spared her a dark look before turning back to watching the room with drawn brows. Just when Kahlan thought she wasn't going to actually speak to her, Cara bit out, "I don't 'celebrate' holidays."

Across the room, Zedd was entertaining a group of children with some sort of magic trick. "It couldn't hurt to try, you know. You might actually find you enjoy it."

*****

Cara found herself falling back on years of training in self-control to keep herself from strangling Kahlan. She clenched her fists against it, or perhaps against hitting her. When she decided she had herself under control, she allowed herself to speak.

“Why do you insist on trying to get me to ‘feel’ things?” she hissed out the word ‘feel’ with all the distaste she could muster. “Do you somehow think that if I manage to develop ‘real’ feelings it will change me and make me more loyal to Richard than I am now? More loyal to you? What exactly is it you want from me, Mother Confessor?” Cara found she was breathing hard, like she’d run several miles, all from trying to suppress the slow build up of… something that she felt was about to boil over. It wasn’t anger (or not just anger), it wasn’t fear or sadness, but some dark mass she was beginning to identify as frustration.

Kahlan’s expression tightened and she seemed to take a long time to decide how she was going to answer her.

“I think… I had to learn about having feelings again, too,” she finally managed, so quietly that Cara saw her speak more than she heard her voice.

“When they first brought us back to Aydindril, I was wild. I was hurt, angry, and felt like I was completely lost except for my sister. The other Confessors weren’t even sure how to handle me – it was so very rare to have girls come to them who hadn’t been raised there, not to mention ones who had been abused the way that we had. Dennee adapted more quickly – she was young, and I had managed to shield her from some of what our Father had wanted us to do. And there was a part of me that liked being able to control people with my powers, then. Before I really understood how it worked or what it meant. They had to use the Rada’Han on me, and it was months before I would talk to any of them in anything that resembled a civil manner. But once I learned… it was like the whole world just opened up one day. So I guess, I know a little bit about where you are. And I know where I am, and I want to share that with you. It sounds stupid, when you say it like that, I guess,” Kahlan finished, looking embarrassed and vulnerable in a way that made Cara uncomfortable.

“I am not sure that I can be whatever it is you want me to become,” Cara finally managed.

Kahlan reached over and grabbed her hand, easing her fist open until their fingers could slip together. Cara’s head swung round to look at her, eyes wide with surprise.

“I don’t… it’s not that I want you to ‘become’ something, Cara. I just want you to be happy. I want all the people I care about to be happy. And I can’t see how that would happen the way you are right now.”

The people I care about, echoed in Cara’s head. Kahlan’s hand was warm laced with hers, even through the leather of her gloves. She forced herself to look down at their hands, rather than directly into Kahlan’s eyes. Even without confessing someone, she could see far too much for Cara’s comfort.

Richard chose that moment to walk over, three unlit candles balanced in one hand, a mug of cider in the other. Cara saw the slightly quizzical look he gave the two of them, and had to force herself not to wrench her hand away guiltily.

“They have a tradition here,” he began, “you’re supposed to light a candle by yourself from the hearth before midnight. Then, just before the sand runs out, you snuff it out so that everyone can relight the candles from one another’s – something about sharing light at the start of the year.”

Cara started to make a dismissive comment about silly superstitions and useless traditions, but a look at Kahlan’s face stopped her. She wasn’t looking at Richard as she should’ve been. Instead, she was watching Cara, waiting to see what she would do and the look on her face was almost… hopeful. Almost imperceptibly, Kahlan squeezed Cara’s hand in encouragement.

She looked back up at Richard and quickly snatched one of the candles from his grasp before she could change her mind. Then she did pull her hand away from Kahlan’s so she could stand up and cross the hall to the hearth. She expected the towns’ folk to give her a wide bearth as they so often did, but tonight they seemed strangely immune to the sight of her red leathers or the agiel hanging by her side. An older woman gestured her closer and demonstrated with her own candle how to use one of the smaller twigs laying on the hearth to the light the candle without melting it.

They were good candles, Cara noticed, better than a town like this would normally have - similar in fact to the ones they’d had at the Temple or in the People’s Palace. She wondered if they saved and hoarded them specifically for this one thing every year, and if so, why on earth they would waste them on perfect strangers.

She had just made it back over to where Richard and Kahlan now stood with Zedd when an older man stood up on a chair and brought everyone’s attention to the sand in the hour glass. She watched the last dregs slipping through the narrow opening and could somehow feel her own life, her own previous self slipping away like that. He clapped his hands and the room plunged suddenly into darkness as a breeze, most likely from Zedd, blew out all their candles and the iron door in front of the hearth was shut tight.

Someone began to hum something that Cara didn’t recognize, and she heard the hiss of a match just before she saw the first candle wink back into existence. This time, one by one, the light was passed around and she waited as the faces familiar to her began to reappear from the shadows.

It was Kahlan who came close and stood in front of Cara. She carefully reached out with her own flame and coaxed the wick of Cara’s candle back to flickering life. Then she looked up mouthed, more than whispered “Thank you.” Emotions Cara tried hard to hold onto flew to life, spreading and expanding into the space she’d felt the sand leave just moments before. It really was like ‘opening up’, she decided, and felt the small smile that struggled to spread across her face.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried very hard for fluff... these two weren't exactly cooperative. But they were inspired by the season, albeit a Midlands sort of variation. (I am also assuming that while religious connotations on the season don't necessarily exist there, that it's at least plausible that they might observe things like solstices and equinoxes since they're primarily agricultural.) Many thanks to my last minute beta-reader for being awesome and timely, even when I am not.


End file.
